Like I Imagined
by A Wandering Man
Summary: A flustered mare finds new hope, a quiet soul's troubles come to light, and a rebel uncovers a secret that could very well change everything she knows.    Rated T for sparse language. Will probably update weekly. Hope you enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

Like I Imagined

Chapter 1: The Boulevard

The elegant wooden door swung shut with a bang. Rarity's rumpled, cake-stained dress flew against the wall and fell to the floor, where it sat out-of-place in the otherwise immaculate bedroom. The mare had kept her poker face up around her friends and acted content under the pretense of friendship, but now that she was alone, the ladylike demeanor that everyone knew and respected was peeling away at an alarming rate. She seethed. She growled. She stomped around the room. She went to kick the floor lamp beside her window, but stopped.

"No, no. Not the lamp," She panted, and flopped onto the bed in resignation. Something small and furry padded from its hiding spot and sat beside her head.

"Oh, Opalescence," Rarity whined. "I was this close. This close! I thought for sure that stallion was the one I was looking for. A true gentlecolt. But what do I get?" She snorted. "A ponce! A frilly, greedy, spoiled rotten, narcissistic _ponce!_" Each word was accented with a hoof against the mattress.

"Meow," Opalescence said with a blink.

"Oh my, you're right," The mare paused and took a deep breath. "That was... Very unladylike of me. But still, you can't understand the frustration. He was a foal. A buffoon! And of course, all of my friends were actually having fun. And I can't complain to them, because they wouldn't understand. Applejack lacks the sophistication. Rainbow Dash _definitely _lacks the sophistication. Twilight wouldn't know romance if it hit her in the flank, the poor darling, and Pinkie Pie, well... She's Pinkie Pie. And Fluttershy, oh my. Let's just say that I'm not risking making her upset for a long time." She shuddered.

Opalescence curled up next to her with a purr.

"Well yes, those are good reasons, but still!" Rarity huffed. "What about me? I'm all alone. And you know this isn't the first time this has happened. Time after time, I keep thinking I've found him, and time after time, they're nothing but a bunch of shallow, ungrateful, prissy... Urgh!" Exasperated, she pressed her face into a pillow, coming up for air after a few seconds. "Why is this so difficult for a lady of my stature? I just want... I need..." She paused to catch her breath. "I really need some air!" She huffed, and stormed out of the room.

Opalescence blinked again.

It was colder than usual for an early summer evening, and as Rarity half-sauntered, half-stomped her way down the boulevard, she couldn't help but shiver at the breeze biting into her fur. She continued despite it. Her aggravation not just at the spoiled prince but at everypony she had dared to connect with drove her on, her breath fogging into the air in short, moody bursts. She passed a house where a foal watched curiously from the window, and magicked the curtains shut with a frown. Who would imagine fair Rarity of all ponies parading down the street in such a foul temper, for all to see? She stopped and glanced around, just to make sure. Nopony else was awake enough to spy on her at this hour. Simultaneously relieved and annoyed at her solitude, she pressed on. Idiots, all of them. Scoundrels. Foals. No respect, no admiration for any but themselves!

She walked, and walked, until her legs ached in a way that she had not felt in some time. Broken out of her mental rampage by the soreness, she looked up from the ground. Darkness. Not a single building in sight. Crickets chirped from the grass around her, and the wind carried the scent of earth and trees. She had been so focused that she had left Ponyville entirely. She was in the wilderness. Out of her element. Alone.

"Oh dear," She murmured. Her heart began to race. Alone, in the dark, with no idea where she was. Her quick bout of turning had even deprived her of knowing which way she had come from. She could scarcely see in the moonlight to tell that she was on a road.

"D-don't worry, Rarity," She whispered to herself. Her breath clouded rapidly in front of her, like puffs from a steam engine at full tilt. "It's alright. I'll just... I'll... Oh my, what will I do? I don't know anything about the wilderness, and it's late, and I-"

"Miss Rarity?" A deep voice asked.

"AAAH!" The unicorn spun, screaming, then promptly stopped. Staring sleepily back at her was a broad-shouldered, red and freckled stallion, an oil lantern at his hooves and a canvas jacket around his torso. "Oh!" She panted. "M-Macintosh! I didn't expect you here."

"I could say the same for you, miss," Macintosh replied in his low southern drawl. "You never struck me as one for the outdoors."

"I-I'm not, really," Rarity gave a short, timid glance around her. "I was in the midst of walking, and, well, I suppose I didn't stop. Why are you out here in the middle of the night?"

"I don't sleep well," The stallion said simply. "Walkin' helps me think."

"O-oh, I see," The unicorn nodded. An awkward moment of silence passed with the breeze.

"D'you need help gettin' back to town?" Macintosh offered.

"Oh, alicorns above, yes," She sighed relieved. With a nod, Macintosh picked up the lantern in his mouth and started down the road, the mare in tow. The breeze blew through again. Rarity shivered.

"You alright?" Macintosh asked through the lantern's handle.

"Hm? Oh, yes," Rarity gave a quick nod, then hesitated. "Well, maybe. Actually, not at all. You see, your sister and our friends and I went to the Gala this evening, and I thought I was going to meet the love of my life, but he wasn't at all like I imagined!" She gave a short sigh. "And I wouldn't be too terribly disappointed, but this is umpteenth time this has happened! I finally think I've found the perfect stallion, and then they turn around and become a complete imbecile! And to think they consider themselves well-mannered! It drives me mad, and furthermore- Just what are you smirking at?"

Macintosh stopped and set the lantern down. "I meant you looked cold," He said.

"Col-Oh," Her white-furred cheeks flushed with mild embarrassment. "C-come to think of it, yes, it is awfully chilly."

"Well then, here." Rearing to his hind legs, the farm stallion shrugged his jacket off and caught it in his mouth.

"Oh no," Rarity said. "That's not necessary." But Macintosh had already draped the heavy canvas over her shoulders. She was about to protest about how rough and unladylike the fabric was, but held her tongue. The jacket was massive on her, but it was warm. Comfortably, wonderfully warm. And lined with fleece, she discovered.

"Th-thank you," She stammered in surprise. Macintosh gave a small nod and picked up the lantern again before continuing. The two walked on in silence.

"I apologize," Rarity said after a while. "About my tirade, that is. I wasn't thinking, and... Well... I'm usually not that fussy, I swear."

"S'alright," Macintosh said.

"It is?" She blinked.

"I live with two fillies and an old mare," He replied. "Listenin' to other pony's troubles doesn't bother me at all."

"Oh," She gave a little giggle. "I suppose I hadn't thought of that."

The lantern's light seemed to diminish as the streetlamps of Ponyville came into view once more.

"There's the town," Macintosh set the lantern down again and nodded. "Can you make it back from here?"

"I think so," Rarity nodded, and shrugged the jacket onto her extended hoof. "Here," She said.

The stallion shook his head. "Keep it. You need it more'n I do tonight. I'll just pick it up tomorrow."

Rarity was about to insist, but the temptation of warmth was too much. "Thank you," She said, draping it back over herself.

"Eyyyup," He said.

"See you tomorrow then, I suppose," The unicorn gave a small curtsy and started walking home.

"Oh, and Miss Rarity?" Macintosh said.

"Hm?" She turned, head tilted.

"Don't think so hard on what you want," He said. "You'll know when you find it." With that, he picked up his lantern, turned, and walked away.

It was even colder now on the main street of Ponyville than when Rarity had left, not that she noticed. Sure, the design was woefully simple, and the fabric was coarse and rugged, but somehow, the jacket around her shoulders made her feel... Safe? A strange sense of awkwardness washed over her, and she found herself inexplicably blushing as she opened the double door to the Carousel Boutique. She fell asleep that night with the jacket draped over her bedpost, and her head full of contemplation over what the laconic stallion had told her.


	2. Chapter 2

Like I Imagined

Chapter 2: Tea and Raindrops

The muted midmorning light of an overcast sky filtered into the dress room through drawn pink curtains, just barely bright enough to make things visible. Rarity glared through her fancy glasses as if she were interrogating the article upon the table: The jacket. It was a good jacket, yes, but its goodness had been... Thoroughly exploited. Several rips along the sides and inner arms were roughly stitched back together, she assumed by the stallion to whom it belonged. The khaki canvas had frayed and faded after years of use, and even if it did carry the faint, oddly reassuring scent of apples and hay... No. This was an article of clothing, and she was a lady of the cloth. She simply could not allow such an old and battered garment to go unrepaired. Her horn glowed. A needle, a measuring tape, and several spools of thread floated into the air. She adjusted her glasses with a hoof.

"Let's do this," She said quietly, sounding more like a gladiator than a fashionista.

Caramel stopped outside, head tilted in curiosity, as the clatter of metal and the whine of an impact driver rang from the Carousel Boutique.

Three hours later, it was done. Well, sort of. The table now held two jackets, the new addition made from a finer, more durable brown canvas. Leather lined the pockets and the back of the collar, and padded the shoulders. Small adjustable straps had been added to the cuffs, and every pouch was held closed by a fashionably tarnished brass button. It was different given her usual designs, but when she declared the older jacket irredeemable, making the new one fancy and embroidered simply did not mesh in her mind, not even in the amount she had used for Applejack's 'dress'. So she created this. It was simple and rugged, especially by her standards, but it still had a focus on form. It just felt... Right, to her. Content enough with her work, she nodded, and magically folded the two of them into a waiting pair of saddlebags.

The sky was still grey when she stepped outside. She frowned ever-so-slightly as she thought of Rainbow Dash. The tomcoltish pegasus was likely still asleep after last night's events: As active and party-crazed as she was, her fatigue was bound to be terrible when it struck. Still, it didn't seem as though it were going to rain, thank Celestia.

"Hi there!" Pinkie Pie chirped from behind Rarity. An accomplishment, considering that the unicorn was still on her doorstep.

Rarity started with a small squeal. "Pinkie Pie! How in equestria did you-"

"The stairs, silly!" Pinkie Pie exclaimed before her attention snapped to her friend's sides. "What's in the bags?" She grinned, reaching a curious hoof towards the left one's flap. Rarity stopped it with one of her own.

"It's a delivery to Ma- A customer." Why did she avoid his name? She shifted uncomfortably. "They were supposed to pick it up, but it's getting late and I have free time." She gave her best innocent grin, just to be safe.

"Oooh," The pink pony craned her neck towards the bags, as if getting closer to them would help her see through the fabric. "Okie-dokie!" She grinned again after a moment. "Well, have fun with that! Watch out for the rain!"

"But it's not raining," Rarity corrected, but Pinkie Pie was already gone, bouncing from the stairs and down the road while singing a lively rendition of the pony pokey. Rarity stood there for a moment, blinking.

"Pinkie Pie," She shrugged, and started on her way.

The now dark sky gave Sweet Apple Acres a weathered, melancholy feel that matched the chipped whitewash and the splintering boards of the Apple family farmhouse, and the rustle and creak of the orchard in the wind only added to the atmosphere. A small spot of cold and wet on Rarity's nose and the subtle pattering that faded into hearing confirmed her fears and Pinkie Pie's then-strange warning: Rain was imminent.

"How does she manage- Eep!" She started as another drop hit her flank and trotted as gracefully as she could on rough gravel towards the farmhouse. The pattering phased into a pouring, as though the clouds were buckets being gradually tipped.

"Oh my," Rarity gave a panicked mutter, increasing her pace to a gallop. "Oh my oh my oh my oh my oh my oh my." Just barely escaping the wall of water that crashed and beat upon the porch awning she was now under, she sighed with relief and checked herself. Mane, fur and tail were all largely untouched, though an amount of dust from the road had accumulated on her hooves. After doing her best to brush it off on the well-worn doormat, she reached forward and gave the door a very dainty, very ladylike-

Applejack opened the door. "Are ya gonna come in, sister, or do y'all want another five minutes to pertify yerself in the rain?"

"I was just about to knock," Rarity frowned.

"Well, it's about time," The earth pony grinned. "C'mon in before ya catch somethin'."

Rarity gave an obliged nod and stepped inside. The inside of the house was much fresher-looking than its exterior, although the constant wear of four tenants certainly showed. Heirloom furniture occupied the living room, worn from a once-elegant sheen to a rough country aesthetic. The hardwood floor was almost irreparably scuffed and battered, and the startlingly old-fashioned wallpaper was cracked and peeled in places that the Apple family probably hoped its guests wouldn't notice. It was hardly her choice of decor, but it was all very...

"Quaint," The unicorn said, in a tone that very heavily implied that one was trying to be nice.

"Well t'aint no fancy mansion, princess, but it's home," Applejack closed the door behind her. "But anyhow. What brings y'all all the way out ta my neck of the woods, sugarcube?"

"I had some work to do on something of your brother's," Rarity gestured with a nod towards her saddlebags, "And I decided to go ahead and deliver it myself. The storm caught me rather off-guard."

"Shoot, Big Macintosh has an interest in clothin'? An' here I thought he was the one with two sisters." Applejack chuckled to herself. "Glad ya stopped by when ya did, though. This here storm ain't scheduled to clear up for a while accordin' to Dash."

"Lovely," The unicorn frowned. Apparently her friend had been awake, and had simply neglected to mention an imminent and terrible downpour.

"Now don't y'all go frettin' yerself outta those lovely curls, missy," Applejack wandered into the living room. "I know we've got an umbrella 'round here somewheres. Mac's upstairs, y'all go ahead and take care of his... Whatever, an' I'll see 'bout gettin' ya home in time."

"Thank you," Rarity gave a surprised little smile, and started for the hallway.

"Don't mention it," Applejack replied while rummaging through a nearby cabinet. "I get stir crazy in a storm anyhow. Oh, an' watch out fer-"

A crack of thunder blasted from close outside the farmhouse. The lights went out.

"That," The orange pony looked at the now-nonfunctioning chandelier in resignation.

Without any power, the windowless hallway was pitch dark, and if Rarity actually believed in ghosts, it likely would have been spooky. After bumping painfully into an ornamental table and stepping on a total of four desperately old and creaky boards, she made it to the stairway. If she ever had the disposable income past her own lifestyle, she would definitely fix this place up. Not meaning to step on any tails, but it seemed to be falling apart at the seams. The hallway below lit up and a southern-accented cry of relief sounded a few rooms away as she turned up the second half of the flight. That was exactly what she was talking about. That couldn't be too hard to fix. She probably knew a colt or two who could work with wiring and would do it for free at her request. And also... Wait, was that jazz?

The unicorn had reached the top of the stairwell. With her ears perked and her attention focused, she could just barely hear sounds coming from a room down the upper-story hallway. A piano, a bass, a trumpet, each playing slow, relaxing melodies... Alicorns, it was jazz. Following its sound, she came to a door that was left slightly open. And, taking a deep breath in anticipation, she opened it further.

A simple, iron-framed bed sat in the near-right corner. At the middle of the far wall was an old desk, directly to the left of a small bookshelf and directly under a window that overlooked the orchard. But that was not what caught her attention. What caught her attention was the record player, still playing, its volume set low. Next to it was an open closet, which contained a variety of odds and ends, including boots and a number of shirts. Chambray, flannel, corduroy, each of them long-sleeved and high quality. Much like the new jacket in her bag, they were simple in style and material but telling of a unique sort of underlying class. A single hanger hung bare and separate from the rest. She glanced around the room. No-one else was there at the moment. She shouldn't be either. But she was, and her curiosity was beginning to get the best of her.

"Maybe just a little look," She mumbled reassuringly, and turned to examine the rest of the room.

The bed was neatly made, and oddly small-looking considering its owner. Moving on to the bookshelf, she saw it was filled with rows of books whose spines she couldn't quite read in the dim light from the window. The middle shelf contained something else entirely, however: A pair of cylindrical, handleless cups made from a fine reddish clay, decorated with a thick tan stripe and a minimalist painting of a blooming plum tree across the middle. She placed them as being part of a tea set, though a different sort than she was used to, and one currently without a pot. She studied them for a moment in the gloom before turning to the desk. A familiar lantern and an old clock stood on one end, while an old dark metal typewriter sat at the other.

"Goodness, this thing is an antique," She murmured to herself.

"Eyyyup," Macintosh said from the doorway.

Rarity turned around, tail dropped and ears set back in horror. "Oh my! I'm sorry, I shouldn't be in here, but I heard the music and I was curious and I- Oh heavens, I'm so sorry!"

"S'alright," The stallion gave a sleepy-eyed blink. "I'm the one that left it open." He bent to pick up the red clay teapot that was currently hanging from the doorknob. Steam drifted from its spout.

"Alright," Rarity smiled reluctantly, still mortified. She moved over to the empty corner of the bedroom to let him move.

Macintosh set the teapot on the desk. "Seems like you made it home alright."

"Yes," She nodded, then looked back at her bags. "A-actually, that's why I'm here. Your jackets are done, and I-"

"Jackets?" The red pony raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, right," Rarity gave another smile. "Well, you see, I noticed your old one was really worn down, so I thought about fixing it, but it turned out it was too far-gone for me to really redeem in any meaningful way, so I went ahead and made a new one for you." She panted a little, having explained herself quite hurriedly.

Macintosh gave an understanding nod. "Where's the new one?"

Rarity craned her neck back and unclasped the saddlebag on her right, pulling the new jacket from it as carefully as she could and handing it to the stallion. He took it, laid it out on the bed, and stared at it. Then slowly, he reared to his hind legs and put it on.

"What do you think?" She asked hopefully. He didn't respond. The smell of tea was beginning to fill the room. Earl grey, she noted.

Finally, he looked up at her. "S'great," He nodded. A smile formed at the edge of his lips.

"I'm glad you like it!" She grinned, relieved. "Of course, I figured you'd still want the old one, so I brought it as well."

Macintosh frowned in thought for a moment. "Toss it," He decided.

"Are you sure?" Rarity blinked in surprise. "I mean, it is a good jacket."

"Eyyyup," Macintosh agreed. "S'also been through more things than I can count. 'Sides," He raised his shoulders, shifting the fabric of his new jacket. "This one's nicer, and I don't make a habit of keepin' what I don't need."

"If you insist," Rarity glanced back at the other, still-full bag. The weight was a little awkward now.

Macintosh shrugged the new jacket off and hung it up in the closet. "Sorry for not stoppin' by," He glanced back. "We were gettin' things squared. Your pegasus friend only had time to tell us 'bout the storm before she left." He turned and looked out the rain-spattered window. "S'not as bad as she was makin' it out to be."

"Still too bad to walk through, though," Rarity watched as water washed down the glass. "Even with an umbrella. I'm rather stuck here until it passes, t'would seem."

"Not the worst place to be stuck, I hope," He gave a small smile, and fetched the two cups from the middle shelf. "Tea?"

"Gladly," She nodded in thanks, taking the cup in her hoof after he filled it. The smell was subtle and relaxing, and in combination with the music she was briefly presented with the thought of a bare brick city loft. She took a sip. It was strong by her tastes, but not overpoweringly so. She couldn't help but sigh a little as she set the cup back down.

"Glad to see someone else likes tea," Macintosh took a sip from his own cup and sat at the foot of his bed. "Applejack hates it."

"Well, she's Applejack," Rarity gave a small, chuckle and sat next to him. "I'd expect that from her. Though I didn't expect this from you. For a country colt you're remarkably..."

"Civilized?" The stallion gave a small, deep chuckle.

"For lack of a better word," Rarity smiled in agreement.

"I wasn't always out here," Macintosh gestured with a nod towards the window.

"Oh?" The unicorn tilted her head in curiosity. "Do tell."

"I spent five years in Seaddle. Learned a good bit, tried a good bit more." He gave a nod to the typewriter. "This thing, for example."

"You write?" She asked.

"Not very well," He frowned and sipped his cup. "I just like keepin' it around, really. Also tried music, but, well, pianos are harder to move."

"I thought you said you don't like keeping things you don't need," She glanced curiously at the machine.

"That's different," He gave it a long, hard look. "S'a... Reminder."

"A reminder?" She tilted her head again. "Of what?"

Macintosh stared at the typewriter. Something subtle changed in his expression. "A lot of things," He said simply.

"I'm sorry," Rarity frowned, concerned. "I didn't mean to pry."

"S'alright," He repeated. "Was a long time ago, anyway." He paused and sipped. "What about you?"

"What about me?" Rarity blinked.

"A filly as classy and artistic as you?" Macintosh turned to her. "I'd expect you in Canterlot. What brought you out to the middle of nowhere?"

"Well, I wouldn't say artistic, but..." The unicorn blushed a little. "I-I don't know. I grew up here, and beyond taking some trips to the city I've never really had the compulsion to move away. All my friends are here, and I keep deciding the resources I'd need would be..." She trailed off, looking into his half-lidded green eyes as she attempted to think of the right phrase.

"Better for other things," Macintosh completed.

Rarity looked away and gave a short nod. "Exactly," She said.

Macintosh glanced at the window. The light outside had brightened considerably, and only the occasional drop of water sounded against the glass.

"Sounds like the worst of the storm's done," He said.

"Hm?" Rarity looked up. "Oh, right. I... Suppose I'd better get back to town, then. I'm behind as it is."

"Need any help gettin' back?" He offered.

"Oh no, that's quite alright," She smiled. "Your sister already volunteered, and I'd hate for that tea to go to waste." She handed her empty cup back to him, and he set it on the desk.

"Well," He said with a small smile. "Take care of yourself."

"Of course," She nodded and began to leave. She stopped at the doorway.

"This was very enjoyable," She turned her head back. "We... We should do it again sometime."

Macintosh looked at her for a moment. Something in his face gave the impression of thought.

"Sure," He nodded.

"Until next time, then," Rarity gave a curtsy, and left the room. Her heart was beating faster than usual, and despite her outward grace she felt as though every step was awkward and shaky. She took a deep breath as she reached the stairs. She was being ridiculous, and very unladylike. He was just a new friend, after all. She didn't even know that much about him.

"I don't even know that much about 'im," Applejack shrugged, causing the umbrella's harness to bounce a little. Rarity couldn't help but investigate through the stallion's sister on the trek home. "Real private, Mac is. He works hard, sometimes too hard, but whenever he's not workin', sleepin', sick, or hurt, he's goin' off on some kinda walk or 'nother. I ain't never seen him spend his share of the family profits. He gives half to help the farm an' squirrels the other half away fer nopony knows what."

"Well, I know he's reserved," Rarity stepped over a particularly large piece of gravel, "But he's never told you anything?"

"Nope," The earth pony shook her head. "Pop carted him off to some big city when I was jus' a foal, n' he came back when I was fifteen. Somethin' musta happened over there, I reckon. He warned me 'bout the city when I ran off to Manehattan, but he didn't much say why."

Rarity hm'd contemplatively.

"Why're y'all so interested in my brother all the sudden, anyhow?" Applejack raised an eyebrow.

Rarity tensed up at the question. "He just... Struck me as interesting, I suppose." She really needed to work on her improvisation.

"I guess?" Applejack glanced at her friend. "Usually he's just all plain an' sleepy-like, but sometimes he gets this look on his face like..."

"Like?" Rarity echoed.

"Like there's a bunch a' gears workin' in his noggin." Applejack frowned. "An' I don't much think I'd like to know what they're puttin' out."

"Why not?" Rarity looked over, concerned.

"'Cause when he gets like that, he looks darn near fifty." The earth pony shook her head. "T'ain't right for a colt to look twice his age."


	3. Chapter 3

Like Imagined

Chapter 3: The Midnight Crew

There is a little-known period of history dating a few centuries after the imprisonment of Nightmare Moon where the laws and ordinances of Equestria's citizens were unusually strict. A time of patriotism, seriousness, and many, many prohibitions arose in order to prevent the falling of any more ponies, powerful or otherwise. Riskier forms of merrymaking were the first to go, for fear they were a corrupting influence on pony society.

Of course, anypony can tell you that just because they shouldn't do something doesn't mean they won't. An underground movement of nooks and crannies where one could find all that had been forbidden began to spring up in Canterlot, Seaddle, and other well-populated locations. These speakeasies were hidden below the ground or in the back rooms of more legal establishments, and were kept away from the watchful eye of authority or the concerned citizen. The Gilded Horseshoe in Manehattan was one such place.

In its heyday, the Gilded Horseshoe was extremely popular, at least for a place that shouldn't technically exist. Fine art deco wallpaper covered up the bricks of the roomy little chamber that rested snugly beneath an empty lot, and the gold paint highlights on the furniture and corner stage almost made it seem like a proper lounge, or at least like somewhere that wasn't actually a cramped and musty cellar. A pony could drink, gamble, and be free under the cover of night, and they could feel as though they weren't doing anything wrong. Time claims all things, however, and when the freedom that the masses so desperately craved was granted and order was restored, the empty lot was developed into the Gala Golden Horseshoe casino. In the wake of the new establishment's floors upon floors of bars, machines, and showrooms, the little lounge deep beneath its foundations was quickly forgotten.

For a while, at least.

It had not aged well. The paper had long since peeled away, revealing the bare brick beneath. The faux-golden candelabras on the walls had been stripped and pawned off. In their stead, a hoofful of single bulb lamps hung from the ceiling, flickering and swaying with every thump and throb of the commotion above. The carpet was threadbare in some places and stripped to the splintering wood beneath it in others. The bar was dusty and desolate, its stools had all but rotted to pieces, the stage and its piano hadn't been touched in years, and the pool table was unplayably scuffed.

Flint hated the place, something that he made known on many occasions. He hated the way he could barely see across the room. He hated how he had to pick something out of his hoof every time he walked on the floor. Most of all, he hated how this was still the best option that he and his gang could take. He imagined penthouse lofts, and brilliant neon towers. He imagined roulette tables, and nightly musicians, and all the disreputable company he could keep. But instead, he had this place. This tiny, forgotten little place. And he hated it.

"I hate this place," The ink-black pegasus grumbled, leaning back in his folding chair. It creaked uncomfortably, and the seat buckled with a metallic pop.

"I know, Flint," The reddish brown-furred unicorn in the sleek blue dress across from him rolled her eyes before magicking another dart across the room. It hit a hole-riddled picture of a calmly smiling Princess Celestia on the nose. "But it's what we've got. We can't go running things until we're a credible threat, and we're not. We're three ponies. Three ponies who get the job done, but still only three ponies. The Azures would wipe the floor with us if we got uppity."

"Besides," the smaller, dull yellow earth pony to Flint's right chimed in, refusing to take his eyes off of the stack of cards he was building on the battered poker table between them. His voice was squeaky, like some sort of nondescript cartoon mouse. "It's not so bad here. It's a roof over our heads, and we're rich enough, yeah? I mean, it could always be worse."

Flint snorted and beat his wings, knocking over the earth pony's castle and making him start over, and let that be his answer. There was silence for a little while, interrupted only by the magically-aided thump of a dart on wood, the ruffle of cards being shifted around, and the constant overhead creak and drone of hoofbeats and conversation.

Without much in the way of warning, the black pegasus gave a yelp and leapt to his hooves. He danced around and shouted some incredibly unflattering phrases while digging around in his suit pocket, bumping the table and destroying the earth pony's card castle once again. Finally, he pulled out a small metal lighter that glowed orange with heat and tossed it onto the table before nursing his hoof and checking the damage on his clothes. The lighter rose into the air, flipped open, produced what appeared to be a small business card in a burst of blue fire, and fell back onto the table with a clatter. All eyes snapped to the slip of paper that had appeared, with the exception of Flint's, who kept glancing between it and the singe mark on the shirt beneath his suit.

"That's a message from the Azures," The unicorn said.

"Whadda they want with us?" The earth pony said.

"This was a nice shirt, dammit," Flint said.

"You have more," The unicorn shook her head. "This is important. Mind if I...?"

"Knock yourself out, Tinder," Flint grunted, not looking up from his shirt.

The unicorn known as Tinder levitated the card to eye level and tilted it to catch the lamplight. Her eyes ran back and forth over the card.

"It's a job," She said. "A snatch and burn, more if we do it right. One of the Azures wants us instead of their normal mooks. Less leading back to them that way. They're promising us money and good standing if we do it."

Flint looked up, but said nothing.

"Flint, this could be a big break for us," The unicorn continued. "We need status, they have status. We get on their good side, we get to be part of 'em. Best way to the top is with a ladder somepony's already built."

"Whaddaya think, Flint?" The earth pony asked, "This a good idea?"

"Can it, Sparks, I'm thinkin'," Flint barked. He stared at the lighter for a moment before putting it back in his suit pocket. He looked up at Tinder, who was staring back at him expectantly.

"Where are we going?" He asked.

Miles away, Rainbow Dash slept soundly on a small mid-morning cloud as it drifted through the sky, not looking the least bit professional. Normally, she'd at least bother to return to her home before passing out like she did, but repelling yesterday's storm on what little sleep she managed after the Gala left her with no choice but to collapse pitifully on the nicest bit of cloud in reach. She laid there, sprawled on her back, wings and forelegs splayed out in different directions, and she dreamed.

In her dream, she stood upon another cloud, one that was larger, higher, fluffier, and lined with light from the rising sun. The world below her felt like more than just a place to her. Here, in this dream, it felt like her domain. She was free to fly, to make the rain bow to her every whim, to show her brilliance, prowess, and outright awesome nature to any who would dare to look at her. With a confident stretch of her neck, she unfurled her wings and took flight.

She soared through the clouds at impossible speeds, the colors of her mane blurring into a familiar bold streak. She dove toward the ground, the strain of the sound barrier appearing and then giving way without an ounce of effort. A ring of scintillating light swept across the sky in her wake, making trees sway and buildings creak as it passed overhead.

Without slowing, she lowered herself and glided swiftly over the earth, letting her hooves land briefly, as if she were trotting. She was moving too quickly to see the ponies or their faces, but she knew that they were there, that they were staring at her in wonder, and she loved it. As she neared the edge of the town that now seemed so small, she slowed only barely before setting all four hooves into the ground and leaping straight into the air. Again, the resistance of the barrier presented itself and was promptly broken. Another ring of multicolored light swept through the air, bright, vivid, and intense.

She went higher, faster, taking joy in the sensation of the wind in her feathers and the droplets of water that were sliding off of her fur from where she had passed through the cloud cover. The sky's perfect morning blue began to fade until there was no color, no clouds, no sunny horizon. Now there was black, and stars, and the distant yellow of a sun. It was a part of the air that she had never seen before, and its alien nature only compounded her awe and excitement of finding something new. But the excitement was short-lived, and as a wave of doubt and shame crashed over her, her grin turned into a puzzled frown. She looked up at the sun to see that it had become two suns, two large yellow circles suspended in the dark. The stars around them seemed to form wings.

"Why'd you run from me?" A rough and distant voice flitted through her head.

"I- I didn't-" Dash began.

"You did," The voice replied. "You were my friend. You turned your back on me. You turned me away."

Rainbow Dash stared at the suns. The corners of her eyes grew damp.

"I'm sorry," She said.

"Rainbow Dash..." Another voice called from the world she left behind. She turned, confused.

"Rainbow Dash!" The voice sounded louder, more urgent. She began to plummet back towards the earth at blinding speed. She could see something pink on the ground.

"Dashie, watch out!" The pink thing shouted.

Rainbow Dash started awake as she hit the ground. Her ears rang and her vision blurred with the impact.

"Are you alright?" A pink smudge said in a familiar high-pitched voice. The smudge slowly focused into the shape of a pony.

"Y-yeah," Dash shook her head to clear it and gave a shaky attempt at standing. Her wings throbbed in pain.

"Whew!" Pinkie Pie sighed. "I was worried. You were tossing around up there and you fell off your cloud!"

"Yeah, I noticed," The pegasus winced at the pain that shot down her back as she stretched. "What's going on?" She asked, turning to Pinkie Pie with a half-awake expression.

"Something's been circling the woods outside of Ponyville!" Pinkie Pie pointed a hoof into the air. "We think it's a griffin! The mayor's wanting to check it out, but the other ponies won't go near it."

Dash froze in place, and a different sort of pain drove itself into her chest. "A griffin?" she asked. "You're sure?"

"Bird face and lion tail, yep!" Pinkie nodded, her expression changing into a surprised sort of seriousness. "Do you you think it's-"

"I don't know," Dash cut her off, a bit more harshly than she intended to. "But I guess I'm about to find out." She took off, wincing at the strain on her wings as she did so.

The streets of downtown Manehattan were always lively during the daytime, and nopony noticed three well-dressed ponies of different breeds walking casually from the Charming Mare Clothier onto the cobblestone walkway. The well-dressed family moved just slow enough to seem unremarkable, despite not looking up at the signs for any of the tall brick buildings, or staring through the large shop windows. If anypony did see them, they simply imagined they were in a hurry, and that was fine by them. It was impolite to stick one's snout into another pony's business, after all.

"Did you need to get the dress?" Flint rolled his eyes, the weight of the filled saddlebag pulling on one side.

"Of course I did! I'd just spent five minutes walking around the store and staring at things. It would have been impolite to leave without getting anything." Tinder said in a lofty, pleasant voice, then waited until they passed a hot dog kiosk before adding under her breath, "And bad manners are memorable. Also, I needed somewhere to put the map."

"Oh, of course, dear," The tone of Flint's words resembled honey laced with battery acid. "How silly of me."

"Can I get an ice cream, Dad?" Sparks grinned, pointing a hoof to the old-fashioned diner they'd just passed. He loved helping.

"Don't press your luck, kid," Flint growled, and the three slid into an alleyway. The pegasus reached a hoof into his bag and drew a folded piece of paper out. Tinder levitated the paper and unfolded it against a wall. A hasty, slightly smudged charcoal drawing of the building they had just left was on it.

"So, there's barely any security, but the records are hidden in a locked cabinet behind the counter." She gestured to the east wall of the map. "The lock seems pretty complex, too. Might be magic. I'll see what I can cook up tonight."

"I nicked the cashier's schedule," Sparks yanked a paper out of his jacket pocket. "Best time to hit it would be three in the morning. Shops are usually closed for a few hours by then."

"Sounds good," Flint nodded. "We should be able to pull this off no problem."

"Don't get too cocky," Tinder glanced over. "Things don't always go smooth. Remember that one gang that got busted by some kind of superhero?"

"What about it?" Flint shot back. "Some broad in a funny suit's not going to stop us. Besides, that was in Canterlot."

"She might be in Canterlot, but news about her's all over the place," Tinder gave a quick jerk of her head in the direction of the main street. "Stuff like that gives ponies ideas. We might be able to take a wannabe, but they'd still blow our cover."

"Point taken," Flint nodded again. "Now come on. I don't want some foal wandering in on our conversation."

The midday sky over Ponyville was still overcast from last afternoon's storm, and the moisture clung uncomfortably to Rainbow Dash's fur. Droplets of water slid from her goggles as she flew, obscuring her vision only slightly less than they would if she hadn't worn them. At least she could make out the trees below her, and whatever might be in the air.

She slowed for a moment and took a deep breath before narrowing her eyes and doubling her speed. The anxiety that had welled up in her chest seemed to drain the energy from her, and her wings felt weak and ineffective in addition to what she was pretty sure was a sprain from this morning's fall. She was a little more than halfway across the perimeter of the town, and she'd yet to see anything unusual, griffin or otherwise. The dream still hung heavy in her mind, as did the memory of how she and the only griffin she knew parted ways. At this point, she was unsure whether she wanted the sighting to be true or not.

She was about to take another moment to rest her wings when she saw it: Something large and winged with a bird-like head and a long, slender tail circled above the trees outside of Sweet Apple Acres. There was no way it wasn't a griffin.

"Hey!" Rainbow Dash shouted, flying as fast as she could manage in her condition. She gritted her teeth as she flew, the pain of her injuries shooting through her back with each flap of her wings. She tried to ignore it. The griffin was closer now, and just about to come into a clearer focus when it stopped its circling, faced the speeding pegasus, and dove into the trees.

"Get... Back... Here!" Rainbow Dash seethed, and followed it into the forest. Branches scratched at her fur and smashed into her wings, but she plowed through them undeterred. She could hardly see in front of her to tell if she was actually following her target, but at this point she didn't care. She knew who it was. She knew she was on the right track. She was so close to catching up to her again.

A thin but sturdy tree trunk struck her right wing with a resounding crack, and she screamed. She began to spiral through the trees, crashing through the brush and smashing into more trunks. An errant branch ripped the goggles from her face, and she squinted her eyes shut. Her heart raced, and the pain that now seemed to cover every inch of her body was mitigated as frantic terror washed over her. The many impacts of trunks and leaves and branches seemed distant now, as if they weren't actually happening to her. She was out of control, and crashing at full speed. The thought that she might not make it out of this crossed her mind, and the fall seemed to draw itself out as she considered it.

Then, after what felt like a full minute, she left the trees and landed with two hard bounces and a painful roll in the grass outside of the forest. Her mouth tasted uncomfortably metallic. She tried to stand, but her legs just twitched. Instead, she groaned, rolled onto her stomach, gave a pitiful attempt at flapping her wings, and collapsed. Something picked her up and set her down across something large and firm. Through her barely-opened eyes, she could see deep red, sandy blonde, and a stripe of wood and metal. There was a gentle movement: A steady bob up and down, and the sensation of being carried somewhere. As she drifted into a numbed sleep, she thought she could smell apples and hay.

When Rainbow Dash woke up, she felt as though only a few minutes had passed, and was surprised when the first thing she saw as she opened her eyes was a darkened window, the bulbs of an electric chandelier reflected in the upper pane. She sniffed, and recoiled a little as the acrid smell that seems prone to developing in old country houses greeted her nose.

She rolled onto her stomach and looked down at the old embroidered couch that she was laying on, grunting as a terrible soreness throbbed across her body. She tried to stretch her wings, but couldn't. She glanced back and saw that they were strapped rather tightly to her torso with bandages. In addition, the right one was covered in something hard and stiff. She also saw Applejack sitting on the floor, watching her with a worried expression. Her ears were drooped slightly.

"Howdy there," The earth pony murmured. There wasn't an ounce of her jovial nature in her voice.

"Hey," Dash responded hoarsely.

"Y'all alright?" Applejack asked, eyebrows furrowing in concern. "Can ya move?"

"I think so," The pegasus said, and gave each of her legs a sore little wiggle. She tried to move her wings as best she could beneath the bandages, but got a dull twinge of pain in response. She seethed.

"Ya prolly shouldn't go usin' those anytime soon," Applejack said quietly, staring at the floor. "Ya... Ya broke one when ya crashed."

Dash's ears dropped. "What?" She asked, and a panicked look spread across her face.

"Yer right wing's broken," Applejack repeated, barely glancing up at her friend.

"No," Dash croaked, and the color seemed to drain from her slack-jawed face. A different kind of terror washed over her, slow and viscous. Every nerve in her being was focused on a terrible realization: She might never fly again.

"Now don't get too worked up," Applejack stood and took a step forward, about to set a reassuring hoof on her friend but deciding against it. "We brought a doctor in an' he says if ya rest an' let it heal, it should turn out good as new. Jus'... Don' go tryin' to fly until it's fixed. It's still messed up somethin' bad."

The news didn't calm her much. She buried her face in her hooves, and she could feel her eyes getting wet. Tears began to stream down her muzzle and onto the fabric of the couch.

"Come on now, don't be like that," Applejack murmured softly. "It's gonna be okay. You just had yerself a bit of a fall is all. It'll all be back to normal soon enough, you'll see."

Dash gave a shaky little sigh, wiped her eyes with the back of her hoof, and nodded. "Thanks," She said, and tried her best to smile. She thought for a moment. "I won't be able to get back to my house," She realized.

"Y'all can stay here if ya want," Applejack offered. "What's mine's yers. If'n ya don't mind, of course."

"That'll work, I guess," Dash said, and smiled again. "Thanks. And thanks for patching me up. Looks like I needed it." She gave a short, painful chuckle.

"I can't take credit fer that, sugarcube," Applejack admitted. "I couldn't wrap a bandage ta save my life. Big Mac an' the doctor done that part."

"Oh. Well, thank them for me, then," Dash said.

"Sure thing," Applejack nodded, "But you'll prolly get the time ta thank my brother yerself. He agreed ta look after ya until y'all get better. He's the one that grabbed ya when ya fell, actually."

"I thought that was him," Dash glanced back out of the pitch dark window.

"Y'all try to rest some more fer now, 'kay?" Applejack gave a kind little smile. "Ya prolly need it."

Rainbow Dash nodded and closed her eyes. Her muscles ached in exhaustion, and her head felt drained and puffy. It didn't take long for her to fall asleep again. As she drifted off, she could feel a blanket being draped over her.

A winged shadow slid between the stone rooftops and the silvery clouds of the Manehattan skyline, landing on ledges, gliding on the air currents, and scanning the streets below. It moved with almost predatory intent, as if it were about to swoop down and carry a pony off with it for horrific purposes. But the shadow was itself a pony, and it had no intention of carrying another pony off. When it did dive, it swung onto a now-quiet downtown road and landed silently beneath a streetlamp.

The whole point of being a shadow in the night was not being seen, but Flint felt a tiny bit of pride in believing that if anypony had seen him, they probably would have thought him to be very swift and intimidating. He walked past the rows of stores, glancing back and forth to check for signs of life. There were none. With a nod to himself, he slipped between the glass doors of the Charming Mare Clothier.

"We're still clear," He grunted, stepping over an unconscious stallion in a police uniform hidden between the rows of dresses.

"Good," Tinder said, her eyes closed. Her horn glowed a faint red color that seemed to match the new dress she was wearing, and the lock it touched clicked and rattled quietly as she concentrated.

"Nothing on the lines so far," Sparks chimed in over the quiet hiss and murmur of the police scanner at his hooves.

"This should be a cinch, then," Flint smirked. It was the only kind of smile he'd resort to nowadays.

"I wish Cinder were here," Tinder spoke, glancing over the counter. "He could have had this thing cracked open in a second."

"What, you wanna go back to that life?" Flint raised an eyebrow. "Back to bein' a bunch of punks on the street? Besides, he wasn't even good company. And Ember..."

"I didn't say anything about Ember," Tinder rolled her eyes. "And I'm sure Cinder would have been fine with stepping things up. You just had to get to know him, Flint. Colt knew how to make a mare-"

"_Focus, _Tinder," Flint cut her off, and she frowned and went back to work. The pegasus huffed. "Point remains, he's not around anymore. The colt made his choice. We can't go lookin' back at what was if we're gonna run this straight, got it?"

"Of course," Tinder nodded. There was a loud clunk, and the rattle of a drawer opening. "We're in."

Flint trotted over to the now-opened filing cabinet and flipped through the papers. After a moment, he drew out a folder with his mouth.

"This the one?" He asked, opening it. The folder contained several papers, including sales records and dress patterns. On one side was a paperclipped picture of a white unicorn with a delicately-curled indigo mane posing in an ornate dress, along with a business card. The card read,

_Rarity's Carousel Boutique_

_Gowns and Designs for All Occasions_

"Matches the description, alright," Tinder nodded over Flint's shoulder.

"What does an Azure want with this broad?" The pegasus raised an eyebrow before closing the folder. "Whatever. We got what we're here for. Sparks, put that thing up and help me get this fella outside. We don't want pig blood on our hooves. Tinder, clean up."

"Roger," The other ponies nodded. Sparks switched off the police scanner and shoved it haphazardly into his saddlebags before hefting one of the police stallion's forelegs and dragging him out the back door with Flint's help. Tinder lowered her horn to the open filing cabinet. It glowed a brighter shade of red, and the papers began to smoke before catching fire. She repeated the procedure on the discount dress racks, paused at the back of the store, carefully folded three of the prettiest, most expensive dresses into her bags, and left, her red dress glittering faintly in the growing firelight.


End file.
